Sherlolly Stories
by Silencebeyondthestars
Summary: All kinds of stories featuring the lovely pathologist from the St. Barts' Hospital and the world's only consulting detective. Ratings vary from K to M. and it's always mentioned at the beginning of each chapter.
1. Unforgivable actions

**Unforgivable Actions**

Rated K+

* * *

"You have to understand Molly that there was no other choice…"

"No other choice?! Haven't I always helped you in all you have ever asked of me? I even helped you fake your death Sherlock? Or has that little service of mine escaped your mind palace?" She hissed through her teeth.

"Of course not! I owe you my life..."

"Then why did you do this to me? Why did you let me think you wanted to have a date with me when in reality it was all just so you can catch some criminal? I would have helped you no matter what. Why didn't you just tell me we had to pretend being a couple for the weekend? You know I still would have helped even though it would've been hard for me."

"Professor Eberhardt was clever. He would have seen through…"

"Me? That's what you mean isn't it. Just one look at me would have get us caught because there's no way I can be enough convincing to date someone like you."

"No! Looks has nothing to do with this. It's just that if you can't even tell a little lie convincingly how would we have then been able to pretend to be a couple. Molly please…" He made an effort to get closer to the crying woman but she just flinched away and let out a hysterical snort.

"I can't lie!? What about the two years I was the only one who knew you were alive and I couldn't tell a single soul, not even to John or Mrs. Hudson despite how miserable they looked. And now I don't know whether to be more upset at you for thinking so little of me or for you placing me in danger without my consent!"

"First of all you were in no immediate danger because Mycroft had his men everywhere and second of all I didn't tell you because I wanted there to be no doubt in his eyes that you weren't part of our mission. I was only protecting you."

"But why did it have to be me? Why not one of Mycroft's agents?"

"At first when Mycroft came to me with this case we found out that Eberhardt had a connection to the same university where you graduated from and even worked for a brief time after it, so it made sense for you to be the one who would work as our link to him."

"I never would have believed you could treat me like you treated that Janine woman."

"This is absolutely not anything like what happened with her. You matter to me, Janine never did. I only did this because…"

"Because what?" She asked, unable to hold the tears at bay anymore.

"He'd already killed over twenty students so we had to act quickly, and this happened to be the fastest option. And I knew you'd be hurt but I hoped you would've understand that…"

"That I would eventually see your reasoning behind this and I couldn't be angry at you because this had helped save innocent lives."

She realized now that Sherlock had known it from the start that when she found out the truth she couldn't be mad at him after he had rationalized his reason for using Molly to get closer to Eberhardt. A sinking feeling came to her as she realized she would have done the same thing in his position.

"Yes." He swallowed. "I knew that you'd realize there was no other choice. But it doesn't mean that I'm not sorry, because I am. More than you know."

Molly felt hollow. The man standing opposite of her had hurt her so many times but now when it had been the worst situation, it wasn't even truly his fault. Oh god how much she wished it was because it would have felt better to be angry at someone than just being sad.

She felt disappointed at the universe. It seemed that it was always her lot in life to end up hurt but have no one, not even herself, to blame for it.

"But why did you have to sleep with me last night?" It was the final question, and the most hurtful one, she wanted an answer for.

Sherlock's face went blank as did his mind when he tried to find the right words to say. He knew he had to get them right or Molly would never speak or see him again.

Molly wiped her eyes with her fists and continued.

"I honestly wish that you wouldn't haven't done that. Going out on dates I understand and maybe even the kissing but do you know how betrayed I now feel. While I was giving myself to you, my body and soul, it meant nothing to you. It was all just an act." She stared at him despite the growing blurriness in her eyes and waited for an answer.

"Again I'm sorry-"

"That's it!?" She screamed. It was half past eleven at night but she couldn't care if the whole of London would hear. "Is that all you have to say, that you're just sorry? Was I just a convenient body for you to get rid of your manly urges then?"

"Molly…"

"No Sherlock. An apology won't do anymore. Please leave." She sniffed and marched past him to her foyer where she held the front door open for him

The man in her living room, still dressed in his trademark Belstaff, took a sharp turn and with a few long strides was towering over her, only a few inches away.

"Would you just let me speak!? He bellowed. "You know if I'd I realized you had this much spitfire in you whenever you got riled up I couldn't have resisted you as long as I was able."

The words made no sense to her but the warm and moist lips that soon ravaged her mouth painted her a better image.

She was beyond confused and with an effort she made herself push against his chest. He backed up a bit but wouldn't let go of his death grip on her waist.

"You're not making any sense! Why are..MMPHH"

Holding his hand firmly over her swollen lips he sighed. "Silence, finally. I know you are beyond angry with me at this point but you should know that before this.. farce of a weekend it has now for sometime been in my agenda to ask you if it would be alright with you to bring our relationship to the next level."

Molly's eyes were as wide as saucers as they mistily stared up at him and he had to clear his throat at the sight.

"But then this case came and I had no time to do so and when I saw you in that red dress yesterday … I found myself unable to suppress my feelings any longer."

A fire flamed in Molly's eyes and she pushed his hand away in fury.

"You're accusing me for sleeping with you? I never…"

"I love you."

He didn't need his hand to silence her as his words had done it already. She was now glued to her spot and her mouth hang wide open.

"And I've never been as sorry in my life than I am right now. I should've told you that I loved you a long before we had sex or the case and I will regret it for the rest of my life but know this.." He said and took the final step so he was again close to almost touching her.

"I will spend those same remaining years to make it up to you. That's of course if you will let me, and if you do, I promised I'll never hurt you again. We both know that I'm not an easy man to be with, certainly not in a romantic relationship, but I know that If you'd wanted to have a boring life with equally boring man you would've already married someone years ago. S-so what do you think?"

He finished his speech by placing his hands together behind his back and surveyed her every movement nervously.

Last Thursday he had asked her go out with him to a date, and Molly had felt her heart burst at those words, but now she knew they were nothing compared to this moment.

"This much be a lot to take in and maybe it's best If I'd leave and let you think it through…"

"Oh shut up Sherlock." Molly snapped and lunged herself at him, continuing their earlier kissing that was now even feverish than before.

When they had to break for breath, he lowered his head to nuzzle her neck, while she raised her head to give him a better angle and also to whisper something to his ear.

"I love you too Sherlock."

This seemed to be the only sign he needed to lift her petite body to his arms. She was still hurt of course, but as he was carrying her hastily towards her bedroom, she already had thought up more than a few ways he could make it up to her.

* * *

**Come and see me at Tumblr at silencebeyondthestars . tumblr. com! You can suggest promts there or here through the private messages**


	2. Betrayal

**Rated: K+**

* * *

Sherlock had never felt this broken. Who knew that it was the small pathologist who had managed to burn his heart out of him rather than the world's most dangerous consulting criminal.

He could feel his hands, tucked deep inside the pocket's of his Belstaff, trembling. He squeezed his hands into tight fists and instead focused on the woman in front of him. He looked down at her, seeing her responding his look with sadness towards him.

How dare she pity him like this after what she has done?

His throat tight, he managed to utter the only thing that ran in his mind like a wild animal.

"Why?"

"I don't…-" Molly began, but was silenced when her boyfriend of three months suddenly took a step closer to her so that they were now standing only a few inches away from each other.

Sherlock stood tall, easily towering over the pathologist, and glared down at her. If he'd been a dog Molly was sure he would have been growling. She gasped as his hands came up to her arms and his fingers gripped her into a tight lock.

Molly had never witnessed him this angry at her.

"Sherlock you're hurting me." She whispered.

Abruptly his posture flattened and utter grief pooled inside of him as his hands left her.

"How? Just tell me how could you do this? To… me? I never thought of you incapable of something so…"

His tone nearly broke in the end and Molly found herself unable to look at him anymore so she lowered her gaze to the floor.

"Look at me!" He gritted through his teeth.

She swallowed and begrudgingly lifted her head to look up to him, eye to eye, to answer him for her actions and to take responsibly of them.

"I didn't mean to Sherlock! I honestly didn't!"

"Are you telling me it was an accident?! That doesn't make it any better!"

"He was just so…"

"He? At least do me the right to know the name of the man who you betrayed me with!"

"Adam." She shook her head in regret.

"Adam." He repeated, trying to conjure up the image of the man who he now hated more than anything else on earth.

"And don't you dare to do anything to him! This is all my fault he doesn't even know that I was seeing someone."

"Believe me he will regret this day until the end of his _very_ short life!"

"Please Sherlock no!"

"How Molly? How could you do something like this to me? I would have never done anything like this to you!"

All energy drained from him, Sherlock slumped down to his sofa, leaving Molly standing up across from him. She nervously shuffled her feet under the still intense gaze of the consulting detective.

"I know and Sherlock I'm so so sorry. He was just so convincing and before I knew it the whole thing was over and I had no chance to think about my actions."

"Convincing?! That's your great excuse?"

"For God's sake it's only hair!" She yelled, quite tired of his drama queen act. "It will grow back!"

"But it's so short!" Sherlock whined as he waves his hand towards her face.

"It's only slightly below my chin." She says, her voice all soothing, as she sits down next to him.

"How would you feel if I were to cut my hair so short that there were no curls left anymore?" He asks but is not looking at her, still feeling very cross with her.

Molly grabs him by the chin and forcefully turns his face to hers.

"I would kill you."

"But you cut yours."

"I was only thinking about it but Adam thought I'd already agreed and before I knew it he'd taken the scissors and cut my ponytail off."

"And like I said he will live his very short life regretting it!"

Sherlock makes an effort to rise from the sofa but is stopped by his girlfriend who pulls him back by his shoulders.

"No Sherlock. It's no ones fault."

He huffs but allows her head to rest against his shoulder and he slides his arms tightly around hers.

"But I do think you owe me big time because of this." He mumbles, the pouting very present in his tone.

"Yeah? And what do you think I should do about it, huh?" She smiles and breathes in his lovely musky scent.

"Move in with me."

"What!?" Her head snaps up to his face to see if he's speaking truth.

"You heard me. The only thing I can think of that will bring me some sort of calmness about this situation."

Molly finds it easier than anything to comply.

"Alright. If it means that much to you."

"It does." He nods and Molly can see he has _that_ look in his eyes now.

The look of "I'm about to draw all your breath from your lungs"

She is right of course as Sherlock lowers his head to capture her lips with his. They change close mouthed kisses for awhile short after which he starts to lick and nip at her lower lip with his teeth until she complies him an entrance and he slides his tongue inside.

When he is about to add new fuel to the already feverish kiss, he automatically brings his other hand to cup Molly's hair at the left side of her head. Gently he grabs the thick light brown locks and lets his hand slowly slide down on them, only to have his palm gasp thin air when he gets below her chin.

His lips stop immediately and with a growl he detaches himself off of her face.

"Sherlock!"


	3. Restraint

**This story is for ****ProperlyPrim who gave me this single word prompt here at fanfiction . net ! Thank you! **

**Rated M** for a good reason so consider yourselves warned!

This is also my first prompt so I'm really excited and scared at the same time :D

* * *

Sitting on a chair when all your clothes were stripped off of you, and all your four limbs were handcuffed to the chair, hands to the pillars of the backrest and feet to the chair's legs, wasn't the most dignifying feeling in the world. The blindfold in front of his eyes really wasn't making the situation any better either and nor the coldness of the chair's metallic seating part to ones bare bum.

Oh it was clever, so very clever. To rob him from eye vision and his clothes to make him feel vulnerable and that way making it easier to pry information from him. Although that didn't really work with him of course.

Sherlock was growing impatient as the minutes ticked by and he waited for his capturer to come.

"I have an appointment in an hour so if you could hurry this along I would be grateful!" He shouted to the empty room.

Sherlock never should've come here but it was no use regretting it because the person in question was _him_ and he would naturally do it all over again if he had the choice.

Finally he heard the room's door open and he finds himself holding his breath, waiting eagerly what would happen to him.

Annoyed, he soon discovered by the sounds of the different step pattern that instead of his main capturer it was merely an accomplice who had decided to grace him with his company.

The steps approached him determinedly but stopped when they reached right in front of Sherlock's chair.

"So you send your assistant to do your dirty work is it?!" He bellowed to the direction where he assumed the door was. "I don't know if I should be insulted by this or if I should pity your lack of intelligence!"

"Oh you shouldn't talk before you see his methods Mr. Holmes. I assure you they can be incredibly effective."

Sherlock jumped at the sudden sound of the voice but had no time to answer because the accomplice had jumped up to sit on his lap.

"Toby get off me!" Sherlock growled and tried to shoo the damnable cat off but it was impossible since all his four limbs were currently tied up, with his own handcuffs none the less.

The feeling of the furry animal against the bare skin that was so near his private parts wasn't very comfortable one and the thought of the very sharp claws was even more terrifying.

"Sherlock it's your own fault. If you'd give him a tiny bit of attention and care everyday he would stop asking you for it so much." His pathologist's voice sounded amused as she came over to her two boys.

Well, in reality she was his girlfriend too but he always preferred to call her _his pathologist _because to him it entailed far more than the other odious term.

"Get him off of me Molly."

She was about to detach the purring Toby off his lap when a better idea came to her.

"What are you willing to give me in return?"

"Molly no. That's not how this bet goes. You are the one who is supposed to do the "torturing" it's the best part!"

"Why should I do that if I can get my reward this easily?" She shrugged and smiled. Oh how bad she wanted to win this bet.

"Sounds to me like you're afraid of loosing if you'd do this the way I know you planned it."

"I'm not!" She huffed although Molly knew Sherlock was only toying with her but she'd be damned if she'd let him get away with it.

"I agree Molly it's probably for the best. We both know you are most likely the least talented seductress in the existence."

She could feel her cheeks burning and the sight of his wide grin was not helping the matter. If he dared to mention that woman's name she didn't know what she would…"

As if reading her thoughts Sherlock's grin got wider.

"You certainly couldn't hold a flame to…"

"Fine!"

Sherlock, to his relief, felt the weight of the feline lifted off of him and he could hear Molly carrying it to the living room.

Her anger vanished a bit as she came back and couldn't help but let out a giggle at the sight of her boyfriend, the world's only consulting detective, being handcuffed into a chair stark naked with her hello kitty sleep mask on. The bright colors of the bedroom only enhanced the ridiculous image.

"Molly." Sherlock said in a warningly low tone. "Are you sure that's supposed to be the reaction you have when you see your…ugh… detective… naked?"

She didn't say a word and just closed the door behind her so that Toby couldn't disturb their little game.

Sherlock meanwhile was growing slightly nervous at his pathologist's continued silence and he held his breath at what she would do to him first. Almost mentioning Irene Adler's name aloud, he now realized, could have been a major error in his judgment.

A tickling brush of something light behind his ear made him flinch so much that he almost made the chair flip backwards. It would have if it weren't for Molly standing behind it and stopping it in time.

She laughed. "Why so jumpy? It couldn't be because on my, silly little Molly's, account?"

"I hope you have washed that feather. I'd hate for us to catch salmonella because of this."

Molly didn't feel the need to answer because she knew he was only trying to control the situation by speaking out loud completely irrelevant things.

She made small swirls with the end of the feather in the small spot of his earlobe and slowly brought it to the side of Sherlock's face and then to his forehead, down his nose, across his cheekbones and his cupid bow lips. To her amusement she could see his face twitching. Continuing to move it in a slow sweeping motion she glided it down to his neck, his skin erupting in goose bumps, when it slid along the top of his carotid artery.

"Do you know what I'm wearing right now?" She purred, already having absorbed the right tone of voice which would bring the best results from him, as she lifted her left hand over his shoulder to rest across his upper chest so he could feel the piece of clothing.

Sherlock swallowed at the familiar feeling of the fabric.

Oh God she was wearing her lab coat. He had no idea that the devil of a woman even knew how much he, in moments when he was apart from her at nights, liked to picture her wearing nothing but that pristine white coat.

He didn't have to say it out loud and she already sensed he knew.

"Yep. And nothing else underneath. Can you guess on how many buttons are closed of my coat?"

"H-How could I? Blindfolded you see."

"I said guess. You know you come awfully less quick-witted when you're aroused."

When he refused to answer she bend down and whispered into his ear. "Only one."

Oh she was smart. Instead of giving him actual view of her she wanted him to have to picture her and that way the impact was greater since he had to actively think about it.

As the feather kept moving along his neck Sherlock felt her leaving the back of the chair and move in front him. By the soft brush of her legs against his he knew she was now standing in between his parted legs, the mental image making his member harden further.

The blasted feather left his neck to move down to his chest, leaving a ravishing ticklish feeling wherever it went. He jumped as her soft lips made contact with his skin and she kissed the spot just below his ear and then licked a path just along the same line than the feather had moments earlier. They both could feel his heartbeat increasing when she occasionally changed her tongue to her teeth with which she bit down at his sensitive skin as she trailed behind the still moving feather.

He gasped when she reached his right nipple and took it into her mouth only to release it while holding it between her teeth. Moving further down his muscular stomach her lips continued her pursuit.

"Are you sure you want to still be restrained when I go further?"

"Oh please. Do what you wish. It won't have me begging to be released." He replied, trying to sound nonchalant but failing terribly.

As the words leave his lips the feather's pace slowed down and she detached her mouth from his skin, keeping him focused only on the feather as she moved it almost leisurely across the right side of the small slope that formed the v just above his crotch.

Sherlock can't help but drew a deep breath when he feels the light but aggravating touch on his manhood. The end of the plume moves up and down his now fully hard and standing shaft, which is now slightly covered with precum.

It's torturous. Both the feeling and the fact that there's nothing he's able to do to the woman who is responsible for it. At the moment he wouldn't like anything else better than to grab her and throw her to the floor where he could get his revenge.

The lack of any skin contact is also maddening and he badly needs her to touch him in effort to relief him from this burdening feeling.

"Still don't want to be let free, hmmm?"

"Never!" He grits through his teeth. The thought of losing the bet and suffering the consequences is too much to bear.

"Fine then. I actually would've been disappointed if you'd given in this easily."

She continues her earlier actions and just when the need to touch her grows beyond his limit her right hand and a pair of open lips replaces the feather and she takes him into his mouth. First it's only the tip and she plays with it for a while before unhurriedly she takes him in completely.

Sherlock's head jerks backwards at the overbearing feeling and she moves her hand and mouth along his length with practiced and confident movements. And as she adds more suction with her mouth Sherlock's feet and hands pull his bonds away from the chair in a rushed effort to break free.

The sighs and growls which have been until now at least a bit controlled leave his mouth now continuously without a single thought at the ever growing volume of them.

She stops at the right moment so he won't cum to her mouth, leaving his cock is twitching and begging to be emptied.

"What about now?" Molly asks as she wipes the saliva and the precum from her lips with the palm of her hand.

"I'm perfectly fine. Do continue." He replies in a weak voice.

"Good. I was beginning to look forward to fucking you without you getting the chance to do anything to me."

The filthy words, sounding so foreign when associated with Molly, stun him speechless.

A weight lands on his lap and if its' not yet clear that his pathologist has just straddled him, it's the warmth of her sex pressed against his, that leaves nothing to the imagination.

By the feel of her moist cunt, she's as ready as he is.

"I've actually dreamed of this." She whispers to his ear. "You're often so dominating in bed that it's interesting to see you like this."

"If you wanted to experiment with Dom/Sub games you should've just asked."

"But I wouldn't get the price." She laughs, her girlish giggle having morphed into something much more adult like.

"You're still not getting it Molly. I'm perfectly able to restrain my need to touch you when we have sex."

"Well we shall see won't we?"

Without another words she places the soles of her feet against the chair's support beams and takes hold of his shoulders as she lifts herself upwards. They both groan in unison when his member bit by bit impales her wet and warm folds.

They moan each other's names as she begums to grind herself against him, slowly letting his cock fill her completely before she lifts herself off almost completely.

God how much he'd love to see her now, being all this dominating when she takes him.

Sherlock can feel his resolve breaking. His hands are pulling the cuffs with all his power as he wants to be able to hold her hips and push her tighter against him.

"Enjoying this? Or is there something I could do to make it even better?" She pants and lets out a high- pitched moan after it.

Sherlock doesn't respond so Molly quickens the pace and slams herself down and up with a growing need. His brain is completely drained out of rational thought as he jerks his hips upwards, the little that he's able to, to meet her movements but it's no where near enough.

"Sherlock!"

Molly is stunned when the chair's wooden backrest comes apart under the strength of his arms. The chair, a cheap one at that, simply couldn't take anymore the pulls of the cuffs so the beams just flew apart and end up scattered across the room.

In his haste Sherlock pulls and throws the sleep mask off of his face, flips the chair over, not forward because she would land harshly on the floor, but backwards so that it's he's the one who receives the blow instead. His hands are now circled Molly and she has no way of escaping him. He flips them both over, his feet still stuck to the chair as he takes it over too, and he enters her without a warning. She can't do anything but to bring her legs over his hips and lock them behind him as he pounds into her with previously pent up vigor.

In his urge he rips out her lab coat open and throws it aside just so that he can finally feel her skin against his.

His mouth is everywhere. At one moment it's teasing and sucking her breasts and the next it's kissing her mouth feverishly and before she knows it he's sucking the sweet spot between her shoulder and neck. For a good moment the room is filled with skin ramming against skin and with yells and moans as they encourage each other to continue.

Molly comes first with a cry of pleasure and he comes only moments after her, filling her completely with his cum.

He pulls his member out of her and hauls the equally panting pathologist firmly against his chest and lets his hands rest on the small of her back, enjoying as much as he can from the sudden liberty of touching her bare skin.

In the end Sherlock, as he is still gasping for breath, has to admit that it was because he wanted to touch her so badly that he broke the chair and so it should be he who lost the bet.

"Fine. You win. So when is this party anyway?" He asks as he gives a lingering kiss to her lips.

"Next Saturday. My aunt said that it starts by twelve so we have to leave in the early morning train if we want to be there in time. Or actually what's better we should leave Friday night and we could spent the night at my mums."

"Molly no. You know your mother hates me."

"But it would be more convenient and we wouldn't have to wake up so early on Saturday."

"I'm not going to stay at your mother's!"

"Wanna make a bet Mr. Holmes?" She asks and raises her eyebrow at him.

"I'd be more than pleased to doctor Hooper. This time you can be the one who's tied up!"

Quickly, he detaches himself off of her and moves closer to the disregarded lab coat on the floor. Before she can realize what he's up to and fight back Sherlock has already grasped the key out of the coat's pocket, taken his cuffs off and put them on her instead.

She is now sprawled on the floor completely nude and her right and left hand are secured to the legs of her bed, although this is nothing compared to the smug grin Sherlock bares as he crawls towards her slowly, holding the previously abandoned feather in his hand.

Molly knows she is doomed because she is just as bad as her boyfriend was when it comes to restraining herself from touching him.


	4. Molly's Research Presentation

**This story is for EndlessDelenaObsessedDesire who ****requested "****Extremely possessive, obsessed and jealous Sherlock and our sweet, naive Molly. Rating- M; hot shag."**

**I hope you are pleased with this! I tried to make is as smutty as possible.**

* * *

"_Increased apoptosis and secretion of tryptase by mast cells in infantile haemangioma treated with propranolol"_ – Was quite the mouthful of a sentence to say out loud and it turned out it was even trickier as a subject of ones latest research paper but naturally Doctor Molly Hooper managed both with flying colors.

Sherlock, having secured himself the best seat in the auditorium, aka having thrown one poor man out of his seat which Sherlock had declared his the second he'd stepped inside, looked around and began deducing at the other people who'd gathered to listen his pathologist's presentation.

"Propranolol is increasingly used to treat problematic infantile haemangioma, although its molecular mechanisms still remain unclear …" Molly's voice was loud and clear and she looked more confident than he had ever seen her before, facing the whole room in front of her on top of a small podium.

Having already read the research paper and heard the presentation multiple times already since she had practiced it with him, saying that if she managed to present it in front of him without stumbling over her words she would manage just fine in front of hundred other people, Sherlock could now concentrate solely on his mission.

He could see that there was at least the one middle aged man who was cheating on his wife with his lawyer, the ginger haired man with obvious hemorrhoids, the woman with obscene amount of purple in her clothing, the lab assistant with a gambling problem…

The list went frustratingly on and on.

Finally a few minutes after she had started her presentation, Sherlock was finished with scanning every possible threat in the room aka he could now point out every single male and female present who were ogling at _his_ pathologist with an interest that reached beyond her profession as a pathologist and her research.

His hands squeezed into fists and his knuckles white, he could feel the all too familiar tightness in his chest expanding with speed.

Molly's professional tone of voice soothing his troubled mind only a little, Sherlock, furiously drumming his fingers against the elbow rests of the seat, felt his mood clouding and he was tempted to run down to the podium and stand before her, blocking her completely out from the view of the audience.

He had almost suggested to her last week that maybe she should give her presentation behind the stage and out of view from the audience, but luckily he had come to his senses at the last minute. Sherlock knew it wouldn't go down very well with her and he had already done enough with the drugs, Janine and Magnussen case to provoke her anger and this suggestion would likely be the last drop for her since she would surely misinterpret his meaning in a way that he thought she wasn't capable of public speaking.

A blond middle aged man in his one a clock drew his attention suddenly as the male leaned forward in his seat to see Molly closer, all the while looking like a thirteen year old school girl who's having a crush on her professor.

Sherlock scoffed and reached his hands inside the chest pocket of his Belstaff to take out his mobile, with which he snapped a picture of him for later identification and added him to the list of people who will receive a rather unpleasant surprise from him later on.

Then his focus moves on from the man only to search the next offender, only to be distracted by the sudden movement of a particular skirt. It was Molly's, who else's, and due to the tightness of it was starting to hike up slightly along her thighs as she was now walking in front of the white screen where her presentation was screened on and she was pointing her laser pointer at some charts.

He let out a subconscious growl and the people around him turned to look at him baffled.

The garment was simply too tight and short for his liking to be worn in a situation where she was surrounded by these hormonal idiots. He not included of course.

Rubbing a sore spot on the back of his head, which he had gotten from the small but surprisingly strong woman, he remembered his plan in which he had attempted to ruin that skirt so she couldn't wear it today.

Luckily Molly had been unaware of his real reason when she had caught him right before he was going to pour bleach on the skirt in her bathroom yesterday, thinking that it was another one of his odd experiments and giving him a good smack on the back of his head for that.

Now as he narrowed his eyes at the black piece she was wearing his mind couldn't help but

gawk at the delicious looking flesh of her thighs that peaked from under the edge of it. He was transfixed with the thought how delicious it would be to tickle his nose and mouth along her legs. Making her sigh and moan his name when he moved his mouth all the way up to her quivering sex…

He swallowed at the tempting image in his mind.

Good thing he had worn his black jeans today instead of his suit trousers because his cock was now painfully pressed against the thick trouser material meanwhile Molly, blissfully oblivious of the state she had caused in him, continued to explain her findings to her colleagues.

Shaking his head, trying to banish his arousal away, he forced himself focus on his task.

Sherlock's eyes started scanning the room again. Movement from the right side of the large room caught his attention first and as he turned his head he could see two men whispering to each other. Sherlock narrowed his eyes to see if he could read on their lips what they were conversing about.

His face crumpled at what he discovered.

Catching the words: "I almost wish I was dead if she would operate my autopsy" - was nearly enough for him to make the man's wish true as the urge to jump out of his seat became unbearable.

Fast as a lightning Sherlock stood up, everyone's attention now drawn to him, as the tall legged consulting detective used the row of seats in front of him to march down to the front stage as people hurriedly jumped out of their seats to avoid being stamped on.

The room was completely silent, Molly having stopped speaking as she was stunned on her spot to see what on earth was he doing. Sherlock's eyes were fixed only on her, for him there was no one else in the room. She gulped when he reached the last chair and gave her a smug smile and then… _Oh god_!, she thought as he brought both of his hands to his head and ruffled his luscious curls.

With just a few long strides he was standing in front of her and as fast as that he had captured her face in his palms and his lips had drawn hers in the most ravaging and passionate kiss. Neither of them took any notice of the people who watched the unexpected interference to the event with utter bewilderment.

Now everyone can see that she belongs with _him_.

Caught in nothing but the feeling of his lips on hers, she straddles his hips as he walks to the desk beside the podium and lays her down on it, his lips never leaving hers. Sherlock stands in between her parted legs, her skirt now hiked up well above her knees, as he moves his lips down to kiss her neck. He detaches his lips from her as he moves onto his knees on the floor, his face now leveled with her legs dangling over the edge of the desk.

Ghosting his fingers lightly on the sensitive skin on the back of her knees, he lowers his mouth to the side of her right knee and his lips and nose anchor her to him as he glides along her skin that is erupted in goose bumps.

She tastes absolutely divine.

How delightfully convenient that she couldn't use her only good pair of pantyhose today after they had somehow managed to get a big hole in them during the night.

Molly gasps and moans at all the sensations as her fingers grip firmly the edge of the table above her head.

Sherlock slides both of his hands from the back of her knees to grab the end of the skirt and he hikes it upwards as his lips cover her right leg in agonizingly slow and wet kisses when he goes on further. He can already smell her arousal and his mouth waters at the thought of its taste.

The wet dream ends as he snaps back to reality when the lights that had been previously been switched off came on again, signaling that it was time to take a short break until Molly would move onto the second part of her presentation.

The dreams have started to come to him more and more lately and it's getting harder for him to push them away as they now plague him during the day as well. They are a diversion that's sometimes awfully inconvenient but still he doesn't wish for them to end.

It's the opposite in fact. He wants them to be real.

Sherlock walks down, using the stairs instead of the chairs, to Molly who had been reached by a small group of people to talk about her research. Her back turned to him, she doesn't realize his close presence until a heavy hand lands on her shoulder.

"Oh hi Sherlock!" She smiles up at him. "Could you give me a minute, Mr. Barrow here was just asking me if I could join him on lunch tomorrow to chat about my paper."

Sherlock's eyes turn ice cold as he looks from his pathologist to the man standing far too close to her for his liking as recognition comes to him. It was the same blond man who had gaped at her like he was a love sick puppy during the whole time she had been speaking.

The urge to shove him away from her came to Sherlock but he decided to ignore the idiot completely as he took a firm grip of Molly's hand and began to drag her away from the man to the direction of the exit.

"Sherlock let me go! What are you doing I was having a conversation with him? I think he was asking me to go out on a date with him." She did her best to wriggle herself out of his death grip but it was useless.

He looked around after they came out of the auditorium, trying to spot the signs to the restrooms. Catching the sight of them just next to the reception, and not caring about her protests, he strides to their direction, dragging the confused woman behind him.

"Why are you behaving so odd? Is it something to do with my presentation because I think it's going better than I imagined!"

Hesitating slightly in front of the two doors he, for Molly's sake chose the left one, opened it and shoved her inside. Satisfied that there were no one else in, he slammed the door shut and locked it behind him.

Molly, who was standing in the middle of the small room, looked at him with mixture of confusion and anger.

"What's gotten into you?!"

When he answered, his voice was so low that she almost felt it vibrating in her chest. "You. Doctor Hooper. You are what has gotten into me."

If it weren't for the intense look on his face as his eyes were concentrated on hers Molly would have thought he was joking.

"W-What?"

In an instant he was towering over her and he grasped her by her firmly by her shoulders and brought her so close to him that almost every inch of their bodies were now touching. Her mouth gasped open as she felt the erection restrained by his trousers and now pressing against her chore.

"This is what you do to me. I want you Molly. Right at this moment in fact. I need you to be mine."

"D-Do you mean…"

Then his mouth was on hers and his hands circled around her petite form. He kissed her inconveniently closed mouth with all his might and almost forcefully tore her lips apart so he could let his tongue inside.

She snapped back from her daze, now understanding his meaning very well, and started responding as Sherlock brought his left hand to her neck to bring her even closer, adding that pleasant feeling of pressure into the mix.

It was just so sudden and completely unexpected what they were doing, Molly thought, but she was already far too gone with the euphorbia caused by her successful start to her presentation, to stop him now when she felt like being on top of the world.

The feeling that surged into her veins at his touch propelled her to throw caution to the wind and respond to his actions with as much want. She had needed and wanted this so badly and for once in her life she didn't want to think about her actions or their consequences. Molly was tired of being sensible.

All that counted was him and her right now.

Molly's hands, which had until now been passive on her sides flew up to grasp him by the collar of his jacket and she both heard and felt Sherlock let out a rumble of a laugh against her lips. Their tongues battled to dominate the other and they nipped and tugged each others lips until they were both blissfully swollen.

Forced to stop the kissing to take a breath, Sherlock tilted his head and began to trail light kisses and nips alongside her chin and neck. Molly moaned as his skillful mouth seemed to find every tender spot on her. Not wanting to be idle she brought her hands to the back of his head and she let her fingers thread into his curls as she massaged his scalp.

By the deep moans that he emitted, she had guessed right how sensitive that part of his anatomy was. As a reaction to her touch his hands moved from the back of her back all the way down to grasp her bum into his palms and lifted it to press her core against his manhood.

"Mmhhh… oh." Molly whimpered at the bulge pressed now tightly against her.

She caught his meaning and lifted her legs to straddle his hips so that she was now off the ground and completely at his mercy.

Spinning her slightly to the left he then dropped her gently to sit on the counter next to the sink, her hands still tangled in his hair. Sherlock lifted his head from her neck to focus on bringing his fingers to the front of her blouse and working on unbuttoning the horrendously colorful garment.

"Sherlock careful don't rip my blouse I still have to finish my presentation!"

He growled in frustration and she, understanding his urgency, came to his aid, and in no time at all he had already pushed the open shirt past to her shoulders.

Then his hands left her only for a fleeting moment, to rid himself of the heavy coat because the temperature in the room has seemed to multiply at least by two, but it seemed that Molly had other thoughts.

"No! Leave the coat on. Please!"

He chuckled but felt it best to obey.

"You don't happen to have a fetish for me wearing my belstaff when I take you."

"Well if I do it definitely doesn't take place in a public restroom like yours seems to, so shut up!"

He complied and her irritation morphed into a high pitched squeal when he surprised her by taking a hold of her bra with his both hands as he dragged the cups downwards, revealing her breasts.

He flashed his smug grin at the sight and she could feel all her insecurities evaporate.

He didn't loose any time and his mouth was touching her neck again, his wide mouth trailing kisses down to her chest. Molly, founding her clothing suddenly highly annoying removed her hands from his hair and proceeded to take both of her shirt and bra off so they wouldn't be in his way.

It was when the pieces landed to the sink next to them, she felt his mouth taking her left breast into his mouth.

They both moaned loudly in unison as he swirled his tongue against her skin, making her nipple turn hard and erect. Molly gripped his bare neck with her hands and her legs straddled his hips, keeping their clothed centers in touch.

"Sherlock-" She whimpered, her voice lower than usual. "What is someone hears us?"

"There are so many people in there that their chatter will drown our sounds completely. Although I do admit I'd like me to make you prove me wrong."

While his mouth was busy with her breast it was his graceful fingers which got the privilege to grasp her bare legs and massage her thighs while he pulled her skirt up so that it pooled around her hips.

Sherlock left her breast, admiring the work he was leaving behind, and moved onto to give the other one the same treatment. His hands, which had been holding her hips, released their pressure as his fingers moved to graze the fabric of her knickers,

He was extremely proud of himself when he found them already soaked under his touch. Molly's breathing was now erratic but she still she managed to gasp in a big chunk of air when his fingers eased themselves inside her pants. God how he loved to startle her like this.

His left hand was draped around her hips so that he could pull her against him, his right one began massaging her wet and swollen folds.

His head slammed to her breast, Sherlock still managed raised his eyes slightly to take a look at her face. Molly's head was thrown back and her eyes were closed as she panted and moaned, her face blushing furiously.

Not wanting to miss the movement on her face for anything in the world, he kept his eyes focused on her as his fingers suddenly pushed into her canal.

"Oh my…Sherlock!"

Slowly he moved his long and lean fingers in and out of her, watching Molly's body rise and fall in synch with his movements.

"Please Sherlock."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Shut up you idiot and don't tease me! We don't have much time left!"

Reminded of their tight schedule Sherlock detached his hands from her, pulled her knickers off hurriedly and proceeded to open the fly on his jeans, his shaking hands making it a tad bit difficult.

He paused as he seemed to remember something

"I don't have condoms..."

"I'm on the pill and I'm clean."

"Good me too."

Molly, trying to catch her breath now that he wasn't touching her anymore, watched in daze as his long and wonderfully thick cock was released from its tight and uncomfortable confinement by him. She pushed her back away from the wall and leaned forward to reach it so that she could pay him back from earlier. Sherlock swatted her hand away.

"No time."

He parted her legs more and stepped in between them while she brought her hands under his coat to behind his back. Neither of them never taking their eyes off of the each other, he leveled his erection with her wetness and slowly plunged himself into her welcoming warmth.

Gasping in unison he filled her completely, letting her tight canal to get used to his size. When the urge to move came unbearable Sherlock pulled his hips backwards so that his prick was almost all the way out of her until he jerked himself back again. He began to push and pull his length in and out in a faster pace and she happily moved her hips into the same rhythm with him.

"Oh god Molly you feel even better than in my dreams."

She was too wrapped in the all consuming feeling of him inside of her to understand him and she kept only moaning and whimpering his name out loud.

He pumped in and out of her, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he gazed down to her eyes which were looking at him, holding the same feeling of love and affection as his. The urge to speed up was slowly building inside of them both and so Sherlock began to fuck himself faster inside her cunt, making her body jolt uncontrollably as a reaction.

"You're mine Molly. Only mine."

"Sherlock faster!"

Molly swallowed as she saw him giving her that mischievous look of his and she almost slapped him when she felt him slowing down.

"No… What are you...?"

"Say it Molly. I want to hear you say it." He growled as he forced himself to lower his pace and ground in and out of her in a frustratingly slow but still extremely arousing speed,

despite the overbearing instinct inside of him to do the exact opposite.

But he couldn't do it yet. He needed to hear it from her lips that she didn't want anyone else but him.

"Yes I'm yours Sherlock! I've always been yours just please go faster!"

He snapped his hips forward as much as force he could and it made her shriek in pleasure. Sherlock picked up his pace with a newfound strength and fucked her roughly against the wall behind her, emitting mumbled words from his mouth against her shoulder

They continued, moving to a fast rhythm as a one unified mass, until neither of them could prolong the evitable anymore. He could feel her whole body shaking and her walls convulsing against his prick and it was soon after that when she screamed in absolute bliss and pulsed, emitting her juices all over the base of his manhood.

It took only a few more strokes from him until he too was seeing stars and spilling himself inside of her.

Neither of them knew how long they were locked in that position. Their heads leaning against the other's shoulder and their arms circled around their bodies in a death grip. It wasn't until they both realized that the noises of the people on the other side of the door had ceased that they realized it was high time for Molly to get back into the auditorium.

Without speaking a word they pulled away from each other and proceeded to make themselves proper enough to let themselves seen in public again.

Sherlock, having only to pull the zipper on his jean up, helped Molly to smooth out her hair and ponytail while she put on her bra and blouse.

"Where's my knickers!?" Molly suddenly yelled as she spins around trying to catch a sight of her cotton and light pink pair.

"There's no time, come on!" Sherlock replied and she had no other choice than to let him drag her out of the bathroom, wearing nothing under her skirt, as they raced back to the auditorium.

When Molly was making her excuses for being late to the audience she tried to block all the plaguing questions out of her mind.

_What did that mean? How long has he felt like this? Does he want to have a relationship now or was that only a one time thing? _

But it was no use to think about it now, she had to focus only on her presentation and so she did, proving to herself that she was first and foremost a professional pathologist.

Even though she didn't happen to wear nothing under her skirt.

An hour and a half later Sherlock was still sitting in his chair in the auditorium, playing with a pair of knickers inside his pocket and admiring the bruise that had now formed to the side of Molly's neck, which was visible even at this distance.

It was no doubt in everyone's mind in that room just what had caused it.

And as the last slide of her presentation appeared on the screen Sherlock was pleased to find out that his small fix on that slide, which he had made last night after letting himself into her flat when Molly was already sound asleep, had turned out to be much more impressive on the big screen than on her little lap top.

There, below the customary thank you and Molly's name and contact info was a rather large picture of him, smiling his wide toothy smile which would have terrified even the most dangerous criminals.

But that wasn't all. Underneath it was writing:

_"**In case you need to speak with Doctor Hooper concerning other topics than only her research you have to contact me first, her ****boyfriend,**** Sherlock Holmes, Consulting detective."**_

* * *

**A/N:** Molly's research actually exists and was written by Ryan Steel and Day Darren.


	5. The Secret Meeting

Rated: K

* * *

_"At the King's Mall Shopping Centre this Sunday at twelve o'clock begins a 20% percent student discount at River Island lasting all weekend along."_

The text had no sender's name or initials and it had come from an unidentified number but he knew exactly who'd sent it and that it was clearly an invitation for them to meet.

He had actually tried for a few years now to approach her about the possibility of cooperating since they both shared a common goal they wished to be fulfilled, but so far she'd been too stubborn to admit that she needed help. Now it seemed like her resources had finally drawn close and she'd submitted herself to ask him for help. And he was glad she had because his own attempts had all been for nothing so far.

Bustling with excitement he clapped his hands together and continued with his day job.

A few days later their super secret meeting finally took place. As he stepped inside the mall complex he could already see her at the magazine stands of the small kiosk next to the entrance, flipping through some magazines while looking clearly impatient.

He walked casually towards her, stopping occasionally to marvel at the shop window displays while trying to make it not look too obvious that he wanted to go to her.

A few moments later he was finally standing next to her, pretending not to notice her and just being interested in the magazines.

She glanced at him sideways, her brows furrowed.

"What _are_ you wearing?"

"It' a disguise." The man whispered, still not looking at her way as he picked up a random magazine.

"And that was the best you could come up with? Fake beard, sunglasses and a trench coat, _seriously_?"

He huffed but ignored her jibe, having long a go learned it the hard way that it was useless to argue with her.

"Why did you want to meet in person? Couldn't we have done this by phone or email?" He asked, only now realizing with embarrassment that the magazine in his hands had a nearly naked woman on the cover. Hastily he put it back and reached for the Times.

"My phone and internet access are overseen by others. It wouldn't have been safe and we would've blown our cover. You weren't followed on your way here, were you?" She asked, keeping her voice so low that the people walking pass them didn't hear.

"Don't worry about me failing our mission. You're the one who came here with two escorts. Are you sure you're able to keep them in the dark about this? We can't tell anyone because they could accidentally botch this up for us."

Slowly her face, which was obscured behind a magazine she pretended to read, turned to look to the direction where the man and the woman who'd driven her there, were sitting in a small coffee shop. Making sure that they weren't looking at her way, she turned to the acquaintance of hers again.

"Don't worry. They're not suspecting anything yet and they're going to be pretty busy with their own new "project" in the future. I'm sure they won't even notice me acting a bit odd."

"Hayley they're your parents. Having a new baby brother or sister won't stop them caring about you any less."

Hayley Watson, the seven year old daughter of John and Mary Watson, looked annoyed at the Forensic Detective of Scotland Yard.

"Uncle Philip, do _not_ start with that again." She hissed

"You are of course aware that if our plan works..."

"_When_." She interrupted stubbornly.

"Right, _when_ our plan works and Sherlock gets together with Molly, what do you think is going to happen? That they'll live at Baker Street just the two of them and you keep going there for sleepovers every time your parents or siblings annoy you. Hayley, your uncle and aunt are going to most likely have babies, in plural, of their own too and then what?"

A sudden and horrified realization of not being her godfather's favorite person in the world anymore made her blood run cold.

The images in her mind of her sitting on his knee when he told her about his cases and experiments, which were always dubious enough that her parents scolded him for telling her about them, were now replaced with her sitting in the corner of the room alone playing with herself while he sat in his armchair with a baby on his arms that looked like him and no room for her anymore.

Hayley had thought that nothing would be more terrible than having a sibling but having a cousin was far worse than that.

"Are you still sure that this is what you want?" Anderson's sympathetic voice asked.

She gulped but her voice was steady when she answered. "Of course it is. I've wanted for him and aunt Molly get together as long as I can remember. This is more important than anything."

"And you do know that his future offspring will never replace you in his heart."

"I know."

"And that same goes for your parents as well."

"I got it already uncle Philip. Now let's go back to deciding what our plan should be. We have to get a move on if we want to achieve anything with this meeting because I'm not sure when we can meet again just the two of us since mum and dad aren't going to drive me around London every time I ask."

"Oh don't worry Hayley. I have a few _years_ of plans thought up. I just had missed the key element I didn't knew I needed before." He grinned and looked down at the "key element" in question who had managed to wrap the consulting detective tight around her little finger.

Six months later at the wedding reception of Molly Hooper and Sherlock Holmes none of the guests were smiling as widely as Hayley and Anderson.


End file.
